


If I was your man (sweet lovin' man)

by dragon_rider



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Prompt Fill, Shaving, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1973394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider/pseuds/dragon_rider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake realizes he’s spoiled rotten when it’s too late and there’s little he can do except bristle on the side and wonder why it is that people never know what they have until it’s gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I was your man (sweet lovin' man)

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt, "fanfic where it takes place during Season 5 and Blake gets jealous of Ryan Tedder being around Adam all the time and whenever he tries to hang out with him he gets blown off and people start supporting that bromance and just feels like he's stealing Adam away from him."

Blake is used to winning by now. He admits it, knows it’s going to be hard to lose if he does, to fail to help his artists have their dreams come true.

And yet, what he resents the most of this season isn’t the fact there doesn’t seem to be any front-runners on his team but how little of Adam’s attention he’s getting these days and that’s another thing he’s even more used to than winning, that he’s had ever since the beginning.

The Blinds are normal. Funny and exciting as ever, with Adam shooting looks across the chairs to him with that glint in his lovely hazel eyes that’s only meant for him. After five seasons, they don’t even need to whisper to get each other and snicker about this or that. They bicker on camera but Blake makes a point of squeezing and smooching Adam whenever he can leave his seat for longer than two minutes. The beard makes it kind of uncomfortable and weird but Blake doesn’t mind the burn on his lips and cheeks, enjoys Adam’s indignant noises way too much to stop only because he’s having a secret competition with a hermit up in some mountain about who can get the thickest beard out of the two.

It’s only when the Battles begin that things change and they change too fast for Blake to be able to do much except blink and frown as Adam spends literally every second on set with Ryan Tedder by his side. And alright, the guy’s new and probably doesn’t get along with anyone else yet, but all of Adam’s previous advisers knew better than to play third wheel when it came to them.

This guy sadly doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo.

“Drinks sound awesome, man, I’m beat,” Tedder says, putting his jacket on and waiting for Adam to do the same, eyes lingering on Adam’s frame when he hugs James and Will goodbye and turns to them.

Adam pats his back, a smirk forming on his lips at Blake’s frown.

“Jealousy looks good on you, cowboy,” he teases.

But it’s not his team Blake wants and the realization hits him so hard he sways on his feet and Adam’s playfulness turns to concern fast as lightning, his long fingers gripping Blake’s shoulders tightly.

The touch and Adam’s earnest expression are grounding and welcomed and just a tad terrifying.

“Blake?” Adam asks, voice low, chin tilted towards him, “You okay up there?”  
“Went to my head for a bit,” Blake lies, pointing to the harmless Starbucks cup of coffee in his hand.  
Adam snorts a laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”

He slides into his jacket and stands between him and Tedder, leaning on both of their shoulders with such a cheerful look on his still pretty face despite the forest growing on it that Blake doesn’t have the heart to turn tail and deny him even though that’s what he wants to do.

“You guys are going to get along so well,” he promises, almost sing-songs, “ _So_ well.”

***

He tries not to make a big deal out of it when Adam brushes him off the next three times he invites him out after rehearsals, out of how he doesn’t even have a chance to make up some poorly thought excuse not to have to deal with how close Tedder is to Adam all the freaking time and how he’d tag along with them whether he liked it or not.

“A man of your size ought to look ridiculous sulking,” Cher comments while they wait for Ray and Monika to arrive, “But you still manage to look cute. Kudos to you.”

Blake harrumphs.

Cher isn’t his friend, not really, but damn it the woman is shrewd.

“You should grab your man and be done with it,” she advises, smirking when Blake splutters and almost falls off his stool, “Really, Blake, one would think a man who’s won the best singing competition on TV three times knows how to take what he wants without asking.”

The sound Blake makes this time is closer to a sniffle.

“He don’t want me,” it’s all Ryan this and Ryan that now, every little comment during breaks just another chance for Adam to gush over the very successful front man who’s helping his team, “I’ll leave him be.”

Blake is grateful when she seems to drop the subject but then he glares when she mentions Adam on purpose, forcing his mind back into the turmoil of feelings he wishes he was still oblivious of.

He misses the wedding ring around his finger more than ever. It was a nice shield against any dangerous whims of his heart.

(This is no whim but Blake is a big boy and if he wants to lie to himself that’s his own damn business).

***

He hurls all the magazines around the red couches they keep on set, sends them spiraling onto the floor for the pages to crease and rip, anger lapping at him and making his heart raise with it.

There’s no one around to see him making an absolute fool of himself. Small mercies, he thinks.

In every single one of them, there’s an article about the new bromance of the show between Adam and his team’s mentor. Tedder isn’t even touching Adam, just leaning really close to him, shoulders brushing and smiles exchanged between them but Blake wants to tear every picture apart all the same.

He’s _had_ it, he decides, and strides to Adam’s trailer with purpose.

***

Adam is—of _course_ he is—chatting animatedly with Tedder when he barges in.

He grabs him, fingers closing proprietarily and unrepentantly around the _222_ on the inner side of his arm, and unceremoniously drags him out.

Adam gapes a little but otherwise goes meekly with him, curious and deliciously trusting.

***

“Woah, Blake, what’s got your panties in a bunch?” Adam asks once they’re alone in Blake’s trailer.

He grunts something that’s not really a reply, pulling him in the rest of the way to the tiny bathroom. He locks the door behind them and leaves Adam sitting on the narrow counter beside the sink, his body slender and light enough for the surface not to creak or bend.

The rock star blinks at him, staying put, and doesn’t seem at all bothered by the close quarters or how long it’s been since the last time they’ve shared this minimal space, air dense and sizzling around them with things neither of them have ever wanted to address.

He purses his lips, stays dead silent while he opens drawers and cupboards for toiletries he hardly uses but keeps here anyway just in case he stays around for too long and his stubble gets out of control.

Adam watches as he piles two small towels, a bowl, a brush, shaving cream and an old-fashioned razor blade, eyebrows shooting to his hairline.

“Hate it that much, huh?” Adam smiles, amused, his dimple making a brief appearance on his face, shy as ever, “You only needed to say the word and I would’ve gotten rid of it for you, baby.”

Something flares in Blake’s gut at the endearment. Half of it is bitterness because he knows Adam doesn’t mean it.

The other half is longing.

“Shut up,” he says, crisp, “And stay still.”  
The tip of a pink, pink tongue wets Adam’s lips. He replies to the warning as if it was a command, still teasing. “Yessir.”

He opens the tap and soaks one of the towels in hot water, folding it around Adam’s face, his hands unnecessarily cradling it as he waits for it to cool down.

Adam makes a little surprised but pleased noise and closes his eyes, long lashes casting gentle, alluring shadows on his cheekbones. Blake guesses he never takes the time to prepare like this and smirks, satisfied to be doing things no one else has ever done to Adam.

He fills the bowl with more hot water, first with the hottest water he can take without burning the tip of his fingers. He uses that to wet Adam’s face and he winces a little, puffing and squirming in place, but doesn’t complain about it being too hot so Blake keeps going.

He dumps the water and refills the bowl with boiling water this time, using it to soak the brush before dipping it in shaving cream. He lathers it up nicely and applies it neatly on Adam’s beard, chuckling when a bubble makes it to his eyelashes and brushing it away with his thumb.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, thumb sliding down to knead a knot on the crook of Adam’s neck where he can see the blush the facial hair is covering on Adam’s cheeks. He’s waiting for the lather to sit, enjoying how Adam peeks at him through half-lidded eyes every now and then, “Ever done this before?”

Adam hums a negative, hands gripping the counter tightly and legs swinging slightly in the small space between them.

“If you don’t cut me I’ll buy you dinner,” he offers, challenging.  
“Just the two of us?” Blake asks pointedly.

They look into each other’s eyes for a long moment, Adam’s eyes like pots of melted caramel with freckles of jade-green and honey in them.

He spreads his legs, hooks his fingers in Blake’s belt loops, breathing out, “Just you and me,” making Blake shudder as he shifts closer to him, air hot around them that has nothing to do with the steam of the water.

He holds Adam’s chin firmly with a hand, using the same fingers to stretch the patches of his face he’s shaving with the other. Adam’s breath hitches at the first swipe of the straight razor on his skin and for a moment Blake fears he’s messed up already but there’s no blood pouring out so he keeps going, hands steady and thorough as he shaves Adam’s face and neck, not stopping until the third pass has left the younger man’s skin soft as a baby’s bottom.

Adam suffers through the cold rinse without making a fuss, letting Blake dry him off before surrounding his shoulders with both arms, sighing when Blake’s hands settle on his waist.

“Nice job, Blake,” he breathes against his lips, noses brushing as both of their breaths catch in their throats, “I’m impressed.”  
“You owe me dinner,” Blake reminds him, his voice a raspy rumble that makes Adam shiver.

Adam grins, predatory and eager, and digs his fingers into Blake’s back through the fabric of his shirt, thighs closing around Blake’s hips.

“Dessert first,” he declares, eyes fluttering close, mouth cheeky and clever nibbling at Blake’s bottom lip.

That’s all the prompting Blake needs to take what’s always been his.

***

Later on when they get back to tapping, Blake looking like the cat that got the cream and Adam limping a little from one place to another, people stare—Tedder looks mildly scandalized—and Cher pats his arm, approving.

“That’s my boy,” she says, “Still a champ.”


End file.
